The Hum of Summer
A honey bowl of sun
fills buttercups up
spills over red clover
in the height of midsummer
Grasshoppers hopscotch
Crickets crisscross
Petal skirts flirt
and bees do what they please
In the last fling of summer
bleeding hearts flutter
Ladybugs hug
and butterflies stutter
Songbirds lament
the last rush of lush
while hummingbirds hover
over leftover nectar
______Colleen Redman / Poets United
August 27th, 2017 9:28 am
The monsoon is still going strong in this part of the world..greys and moody blues is all we’ve got!
August 27th, 2017 9:48 am
Aw…This is pure bliss!
August 27th, 2017 9:51 am
I definitely feel that summer now is experiencing its last fling. Those bleeding hearts are fluttering for the last time…..
August 27th, 2017 10:48 am
Love this especially; “Songbirds lament the last rush of lush while hummingbirds hover over leftover nectar.”
August 27th, 2017 11:16 am
I, for one, can hardly wait for the last fling of summer. It’s been so beastly hot out here in the desert lands that butterflies aren’t stuttering, but simply shriveling into something resembling old and brittle parchment.
August 27th, 2017 12:59 pm
I love the little rhymes that are nestled in this poem. It leaves me with a happy feeling. Thank you!
August 27th, 2017 1:32 pm
Lovely piece, the rhymes and the gentle last rush of summer… I sigh contended.
August 27th, 2017 3:30 pm
That was refreshing and nicely written! Loved your lines with rhymes within. A little gem of a summer poem!
August 27th, 2017 4:39 pm
Every line teems with life and beauty.
August 27th, 2017 4:51 pm
Your honey bowl of sun filling the buttercups is just gorgeous. Such a happy poem!
August 27th, 2017 5:17 pm
I watched it all. Beautiful.
ZQ
August 27th, 2017 8:58 pm
This reads like a delightful song. I love it.
August 28th, 2017 6:45 am
OMG, CR; this is freakin incredible! Not that we need a reminder of where we are, season-wise, but if we did, this’d do it alright! great stuff.
August 28th, 2017 8:15 am
Those critters of summer all doing their thing so relaxing as I listen half asleep in the garden. What a glorious poem Colleen.